The Good Brother
by Ryan Phelan
Summary: Sequel to "Imaginary Raphie."  Raph tries to be nicer to his brothers...not so easy with the brothers he's got!


**Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT. As with any sequel I suggest you read (or reread) "Imaginary Raphie" first, then come back here and enjoy the latest installment of my "tiny turtles" series.**

The Good Brother

Far beneath the mean streets of New York City four young mutant turtles waged a battle unseen by human eyes. They sat perfectly still in a tight circle, three pairs of eyes focused intently on Donatello. The lair was so quiet you could hear a cockroach scurrying around the kitchen in sneakers. Then Donatello made his move, which passed the burden to Michelangelo; three pairs of eyes were now locked onto the youngest turtle.

"Your turn, Mikey," Leo prompted.

"I know!" Mike snapped. "Let me think!" He screwed up his face in deep thought; many minutes passed before he reached out a trembling hand and grabbed a wooden plank. It turned out to be a costly mistake; the tower tumbled. Mike let out an anguished wail of defeat while his brothers cheered.

"I hate this game!" Mike cried. "It's so stupid!"

"Just because you keep losing doesn't mean the game is stupid!" Don replied.

"It's got a stupid name!" Mike declared. "Think about it…Jenga…Jenga…no matter how you say it, it sounds stupid!"

"Alright, Mikey, we get it!" Leo snapped. "Why don't we play Uno instead?"

"Sure, whatever you guys want. I'm just gonna get a drink first," Raphael said, getting to his feet. "Does anyone want anything?"

"Water for me," Leo said.

"I'll have a carbonated lemon-lime beverage," Don said, which was Donspeak for a Sprite.

"I'll have some lemonade," Mike said.

"We don't have any lemonade," Raph replied.

"We have water and sugar and lemons, right?" Mike asked.

"Um…I dunno…" Raph said.

"We do. We found a bag of sugar and a lemon on our last food run. And we've have running water for a long time now…put the three together and…"

"Do you want me to make you some lemonade, Mikey?" Raph sighed.

"If it's no trouble," Mike said innocently.

"No trouble at all," Raph smiled. He got up and went into the kitchen.

"You really shouldn't take advantage of Raph like that, Mikey," Leo said.

"Hey, I'm not the only one asking him to do stuff!" Mike huffed. "Can I help it if I've got a better imagination?"

"I agree with Leo," Don said. "I don't know what's gotten into Raph, but it won't last if you get too demanding! You're going to blow it for all of us!"

"C'mon you guys, this is Raph we're talking about. There's no way he's gonna be Mr. goody-goody forever. I say enjoy it while you can." Mike turned towards the kitchen. "Hey Raph!" He called out. "Could you make me a peanut butter sandwich too?"

"Sure thing, buddy!" Raph yelled back.

Leo shook his head and shuffled the Uno cards. A few days earlier Raph had been hit on the head by a falling brick, which knocked him out cold for several minutes. Ever since then he had become an entirely different turtle; a polite, thoughtful one that was eager to please. Raph's brothers were skeptical at first, but once they realized he was sincere they saw an opportunity too good to pass up.

On Monday Raph did Leo's laundry.

On Tuesday Raph gave Mike his dessert.

On Wednesday Raph took Don's turn cleaning the dojo.

On Thursday Raph played superheroes with Mike, filling the role of damsel in distress.

And today Raph was Mike's personal chef.

Everyone kept waiting for Raph to blow his top, but much to their surprise Raph never said no and never complained. His brothers were baffled, and each had their own theory. Leo believed Raph had had a kind of spiritual epiphany. Don believed that the blow to the head had, in scientific terms, "scrambled his brain like an egg." Mike believed that aliens had replaced Raph with a robot. It was Leo who finally came right out and asked Raph why he was acting so differently; Raph simply responded that he wanted to be "a good brother."

Raph reentered the living room carrying a tray full of drinks and a sandwich. He handed each brother their order. "Here you go," he said.

"Thanks," Don said.

"Thanks," Leo said.

"Thanks," Mike sighed.

"Something wrong, Mikey?" Raph asked.

"Well, I hate to complain, but this sandwich is cut horizontally. Everyone knows sandwiches taste better when they're cut diagonally. And it has crusts. I do so hate the crusts, but I guess I'll manage." Mike sighed again and picked up a half.

"Don't eat that," Raph said. "I'll make you a new one. Diagonal cut, no crusts." He took the sandwich and went back to the kitchen.

"Thanks, Raph, you're the best!" Mike yelled at his brother's retreating shell. He turned and saw Leo and Don looking at him disapprovingly. "Come on, you guys, I'm just having some fun. What's the big deal?"

"When Raph finally snaps and pounds you, I reserve the right to say I told you so," Leo said.

"Fine, whatever," Mike said, waving his hand impatiently. "Just deal."

In the kitchen Raphael put the "bad" sandwich away to be consumed by a less picky eater later. He then began to prepare a new sandwich, but spread the peanut butter so hard he accidentally tore the bread; with a frustrated grunt he threw it in the garbage.

"Raphael!" A stern older voice behind him said.

Raphael froze, realizing that he had been caught breaking a very important rule. Slowly he turned and faced the angry glare of his Sensei. "I'm sorry Master Splinter," he gulped. "I wasn't thinking."

"That much is obvious," Splinter said. "Food is a valuable resource for us, Raphael. Perhaps a day of fasting will help you remember that."

"Yes, Master Splinter," Raph sighed. "But may I please make another sandwich? It's not for me, it's for Mikey."

Splinter's hard gaze softened. "Raphael, come sit down." The two of them sat at the kitchen table. "Raphael, your newfound dedication to yourfamily is admirable, but you can be a good brother without catering to their every whim."

"I know. But I want to do this, Sensei, really!"

Splinter studied his son for a moment. "If that is what you want, then so be it. But remember, love is not something that can be bought, whether it is with money or a peanut butter sandwich."

"I get it Sensei, really," Raph replied. "Can I make a sandwich now? Mikey's waiting."

Splinter nodded. Raph jumped up and got to work. Splinter watched him fix the sandwich and return to the living room. Shaking his head, he got up and grabbed the kettle to make himself some tea. Once again, one of his sons would have to learn a valuable lesson the hard way.

----------

The next day after practice the turtles relaxed in the living room. Of course, the definition of relax is quite different when you're an eight-year-old ninja.

"C'mon, Donny, put it right over the plate!" Mike said, taking a few practice swings with the whiffle bat.

"Prepare to be humiliated!" Don smirked.

"Guys, you know you're not allowed to play ball in the living room," Raph piped up from his spot on the couch. "If Master Splinter catches you, you'll be in a lot of trouble."

"Thanks for the warning Leo Jr.," Mike said, rolling his eyes.

"Actually he's worse than Leo," Don said.

"Hey!" Leo protested from his spot in the "outfield."

"Master Splinter isn't going to catch us," Mike continued. "You know when he's meditating he's dead to the world. How's he ever gonna find out? C'mon, Don, I'm getting old here!"

Don threw the whiffle ball. Mike swung and it connected with a mighty crack. Leo grabbed at the ball as it went sailing by him and missed; it bounced off a framed photograph of the family, causing it to fall. The glass shattered, leaving the three turtles to stare at the mess in disbelief.

"We are so dead," Mike gulped, dropping the bat.

"What should we do?" Don cried.

"Maybe you guys can hide the picture and hope Sensei won't notice," Raph offered.

"Yeah! Or maybe we can just hide the glass and put the picture back on the wall!" Mike said, jumping right on board.

"Are you guys kidding?" Leo said. "Master Splinter will notice! He notices everything!"

"Mikey's right, we're dead," Don gulped.

"Unless…" Mike said slowly, an idea forming in his head. "Unless someone's willing to take the fall. Someone who's been really, really good lately and will probably get off easy," Mike said. He looked at Raph.

"No way!" Raph snapped.

"C'mon Raph! You can do it!" Mike exclaimed.

"No!" Raph said. "I can't lie to Sensei!"

"Sure you can," Mike said. His eyes grew large. "It's what a good brother would do."

"I dunno Mikey, I…" Raph faltered. He turned to Leo and Don. "What do you guys say?"

The turtles froze at the sound of Master Splinter approaching; before the turtles knew it, he had joined them in the living room. His whiskers twitched as he gazed at the broken picture and bat, then at his very nervous sons.

"Dare I ask what is going on?" He said flatly. The turtles exchanged glances but none of them had the courage to speak up. "Very well," Splinter said. "Then you can all share the punishment."

"Wait!" Raphael exclaimed. "It…it was my fault. I was playing whiffleball by myself and I broke the picture! I'm sorry!"

Splinter turned to his other three sons. "Is this true?" He asked. Don, Leo and Mikey fidgeted uncomfortably. "Well?" Splinter prompted.

"Yes! It's true!" Leo blurted out.

"Very well," Splinter said. He turned back to Raphael. "Go to the dojo. You will be putting in an extra training session."

"Yes, Sensei," Raph said. He hung his head and marched off to the dojo. Splinter followed, leaving the real culprits alone with their guilt.

----------

One very long training session later, Raphael lay in bed resting his aching muscles. But his body wasn't the only thing that was sore; he was less than thrilled with his brothers for letting him take the fall. If he wasn't so tired he would have punched the wall, which lately had been receiving quite a bit of punishment. Unknown to his brothers Raphael still had his infamous temper, except now as part of his efforts to be good he would wait until he was alone to vent his anger.

Raph sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling. He thought back to that fateful day that changed his life;he rememberedhow empty and alone he felt when he thought his family had abandoned him for a figment of Mike's imagination. Don said the whole experience had merely been a concussion-induced hallucination, but Raph was convinced that it had been a vision.

Master Splinter had taught them all about visions using the novel _A Christmas Carol_ as an example their young minds could fathom. People had visions for many reasons, he said, but the most common visions were based on the need to change the present to avoid a dark future. Raph's vision made him feel like Ebenezer Scrooge; a jerk who was destined to die hated and alone unless he changed his ways. That was when he vowed to turn over a new leaf and become a good brother and son. But when he made that vow he never dreamed it would be this hard; how could he be a good brother if it meant being a bad son, or vice versa?

Meanwhile in Don's room the other turtles were struggling with their own moral dilemma.

"I can't believe you told Raph to take the blame, Mikey!" Leo said accusingly.

"I didn't think he'd actually do it! Besides, it's your fault too! 'It's true, Master Splinter, Raph broke the picture!'" Mike said, imitating Leo's voice.

"Shut up!" Leo snapped. "Maybe I did take advantage of Raph, but you've done way worse! You turned Raph into your personal servant!"

"You are so full of it!" Mike snapped. "Why don't you just admit you're jealous of Raph? He's trying to take your place as teacher's pet and you're doing everything you can to mess it up!"

"I said shut up, Mikey!" Leo growled.

"Ooooh what are you gonna do about it?" Mike said, giving Leo a push. Leo pushed back. Don quickly intervened before an all-out brawl could ensue.

"Guys, chill!" He said, jumping in between his brothers. "We're all to blame! Raph's personality change has upset the social structure and thrown us all out of whack!"

Leo and Mike stopped cold, if for no other reason than they were very confused. "What do you mean, Donny?" Leo asked.

"Think about it," Don said. "We all have our roles in this family. I'm the smart one, Leo's the leader, Mikey's the goofball and Raph's the hothead. Now that Raph's not the hothead anymore Leo has no one to fight with so he has to find a new hothead, such as Mikey. If Mikey becomes the hothead we won't have a goofball, so someone else will have to become the goofball. This is what's known as a domino effect; before we know it our entire society will go down in flames!"

Mike and Leo gasped. "Are you sure you're not exaggerating?" Leo asked.

"I got it right from this book!" Don said, holding up a book on psychology. "Do you want to question the book?!" The other turtles shook their heads. "Good. Now we can focus on finding a solution."

"The solution is obvious. We have to get Raph back to normal!" Leo said.

"Yeah! Bugging Raph isn't fun anymore," Mike said. "It's like I don't have a purpose!"

"Okay, now that we know what to do, how do we do it?" Leo questioned.

"As usual, I have the solution," Don smiled. "We need to remind Raph who he is. We need to make him mad, so mad he explodes! Once that happens he'll come to his senses and go back to normal."

"Are you sure that will work?" Leo asked.

"Yes!" Don snapped. "Unless you have a better idea." He was met with silence. "All right then, in order to make Raph go back to normal we need to kick things up a notch. We need to be so demanding and obnoxious that Raph can't help but blow up."

"Please, this is not a job for amateurs," Mike said. "You two just stand back and watch the master."

----------

The next morning Raph awoke to find Mike sitting on his bed. "Morning, Sunshine," Mike smiled. "May I call you Sunshine?"

"Whatever," Raph groaned, pulling the covers over his head.

Mike pulled the covers back down. "So, I was wondering if you'd mind carrying me on our training run through the sewers today."

"What?!" Raph exclaimed. "Are you serious?!"

"Yup," Mike grinned. "Frankly, you need the exercise more than me. I also ate the last banana nut muffin. But there's still plenty of oatmeal for breakfast." Mike hopped off the bed. "See ya Sunshine," he called over his shell as he left the room.

Raph rolled over and punched the wall. He knew he was being tested; Master Splinter said that those who followed the right path were often tested. Raph gritted his teeth in determination; he was not going to break his vow no matter how obnoxious Mike got.

It turned out that Mike could bring obnoxious to whole new heights.

After the training run a very sweaty Raph took a long shower. As he stepped out of the bathroom he was hit in the head by a rubber band. "Ow!" Raph cried; he turned and glared at Mike.

"Hey bro. Just putting in some target practice. You don't mind being the target, do you?" He snapped another rubber band, which bounced off Raph's plastron.

Raph forced a smile. "Not at all."

"Oh, and I need a moving target, so could you run around in circles?"

Raph sighed and started to jog around the lair.

Throughout the day Mike provoked Raph. He drew all over Raph's comic books. He "accidentally" broke Raph's favorite video game. He tripped Raph several times while he was trying to do his katas. At dinner he dumped all of his lima beans onto Raph's plate when Master Splinter wasn't looking. Not once did Raph take the bait; after dinner he went straight to his bedroom and shut the door. His brothers, meanwhile, convened once again in Don's room.

"I can't believe Raph!" Mike said. "That was some of my best work! Am I losing my touch, guys? Be honest."

"You were great, Mikey, really," Leo said.

"Even I felt like smacking you," Don said. "I think maybe the old Raph is gone for good."

"We can't give up yet," Leo said. "There has to be something else we can try."

"Well…" Don said. "I have another idea. It's risky, but it just might work…"

Half an hour later, having finally calmed down, Raph exited his bedroom to an unusually quiet lair. There was no steady drone of the TV, no small voices arguing over what to watch. Raph felt a stab of panic; ever since his vision he didn't like things too quiet. Looking around, he spotted a folded piece of paper taped to his door with his name written on it. He took it down, unfolded it and read the contents; the silence of the lair was broken by his shrill gasp.

----------

"C'mon guys, put your shells into it!" Don said as he watched Leo and Mike struggle to push open the manhole cover.

"Hey, this thing is heavy!" Mike snapped. "Maybe if you quit talking and helped us!"

"There's hardly enough room at the top of the ladder for you and Leo," Don replied matter-of-factly. "Besides, I came up with the plan. You guys need to pitch in somehow."

"Heads up, Mikey, it's starting to move!" Leo said. With a mighty heave they pushed the cover aside, and the three turtles scrambled out of the sewers. Fifty yards ahead of them, bathed in the dark yellow glow of streetlights, was their destination: the junkyard.

Once in a while, when supplies were low and scouring the sewers turned up nothing good, Splinter would visit the junkyard. He never brought his sons along, and no amount of begging on their part could change his mind. He told them it was far too dangerous; the junkyard was surrounded by a barbed wire fence, and humans were there at all hours of the day and night. Visiting the junkyard required skill and cunning that the four young turtles did not yet have. Of course the turtles thought they did, and now was their chance to prove it. Still they were hesitant, due in no small part to Splinter's colorful warnings.

"Tell me again how this is gonna get Raph back to normal?" Leo asked Don.

"Okay, all week long Raph has tried to be a good brother by doing anything we ask him to. But when Mikey asked him to take the blame for the broken picture, he almost said no. And why did he almost say no?"

"Because he didn't want to get into trouble," Leo said.

"Not exactly. It was because he also wants to be a good son. If he said he broke the picture he would be a bad son, yet if he tattled on us he would be a bad brother. It was quite a conundrum for him."

"Huh?" Leo asked.

"A no-win situation. Simply put, Raph is trying to be perfect, but as we all know no one is perfect…"

"Speak for yourself," Mike said.

"So we're creating a conundrum that will force Raph to realize that what he's trying to do is impossible," Don said, ignoring Mike's interruption. "He'll then give it up and go back to normal."

"I still don't get it," Leo said.

Don sighed impatiently. "Trust me, it will work! I got the idea from my psychology book, and the guy who wrote it won a Nobel Prize!"

"C'mon, guys!" Mike said. "Are we going to talk about it all night or are we gonna hit the junkyard?" He took off down the street, his brothers right on his heels. Sticking to the shadows, the three turtles crept up to the gate; though closed and chained, there was a gap between the gate and the fence that was just wide enough for three small turtles to slip through.

The turtles gasped in awe. They had never seen such a beautiful sight; piles and piles of junk all in one place, there for the taking. One pile was all furniture, another was appliances, another was wood planks, and yet another was flattened automobiles. For ten minutes the turtles wandered around, browsing with the eagerness of kids in a candy store.

"Leo, check this out!" Mike cried, picking up a remote control car.

"Keep it down, Mikey!" Leo whispered fiercely. "There might be humans nearby! We have to be careful."

"Guys, give me a hand with this!" Don cried. He was standing in front of one pile tugging on something.

"Quiet, Don!" Leo said as he and Mike joined him. "What is this thing?"

"A VCR," Don said excitedly. "I bet I can fix it. Then we'll never have to worry about missing our shows while we train!"

Mike and Leo each grabbed on and pulled. Slowly the VCR began to move, and then popped out. Unfortunately this upset the delicate balance of the pile, causing several other objects to start sliding.

"Uh-oh," Don gulped.

"Run!" Leo yelled.

The terrified turtles fled as one half of the pile came tumbling down in a noisy avalanche of junk. Rats scurried out from everywhere and disappeared into the night. It was all over in seconds; the shaken turtles stared at the mess, too afraid to move or even breathe.

"Do you think anyone heard that?" Mike whispered fearfully.

The door to the office slammed open. "Who's out there?!" An angry voice bellowed. Instinctively the turtles took to the shadows; a tense silence followed as the man scanned the junkyard from the doorway. "Lousy scavengers! You've ripped me off for the last time!" The man yelled before he disappeared back into the office.

"Let's get out of here!" The turtles all said at once. But before they could move a large black dog tore out of the office, barking and snarling. The man reappeared in the doorway.

And this time was carrying a shotgun.

----------

Raphael sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at the piece of paper in his hands. He read it over and over:

_Raph, _

_Gone to the junkyard to look for stuff. Don't tell Master Splinter. If he asks, tell him we went sewer skating._

_Leo, Don, Mike_

Raph's mind was a flurry of emotions; worry that his brothers were going to get in trouble, anger for not being invited along, guilt for not telling Master Splinter. He felt that he should do something, but was at a loss as to what that something was. Finally, too upset and anxious to sit still any longer, he slid off his bed and began to walk; he ended up at Splinter's bedroom door. Very quietly he opened the door a crack and peeked in; Master Splinter was kneeling on his meditation mat facing Raphael, head bowed slightly, eyes closed. Raphael stood there for a full minute, debating whether to disturb him.

"Is something troubling you, Raphael?" Splinter asked, opening his eyes.

_So much for being dead to the world when he's meditating,_ Raphael thought. He sighed and pushed the door open further. "I was just wondering…um…how do you know when you're doing the right thing? I mean, can you still do the right thing even though it means doing something wrong…I mean, can someone be a good person if it means doing something that might make someone mad?"

"Come here, my son," Splinter said. Raphael reluctantly trotted over. "Do you think I am a good person?"

"Yes, Sensei," Raph replied without hesitation.

"Do you think your brothers are good people?"

"Yes," Raph replied.

"Really? Even when they do something wrong? Even when they hurt your feelings?"

"Yes."

"Why do you think that is?"

Raphael thought for a moment. "Well…I guess because most of the time they're real nice and fun to be around."

"And when you do things that upset them, do you do it because you don't love them?"

"No! It's just…sometimes they bug me and I get mad at them…but I still love them."

"And they love you," Splinter said. "And I love you all. Love is the most powerful thing in this world, my son. Almost nothing can destroy it. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"I think so," Raphael said. "Thanks, Master Splinter. I feel a lot better." He turned to leave.

"Before I return to my meditation, is there anything else you wish to tell me, Raphael?" Splinter asked.

Raphael paused. "No." He replied. With that he left the room, closing the door behind him.

----------

"Come on out you bums!" The man yelled into the night air. "You can't escape. Give up now and I'll only call the cops. Make me or Max find you and…well, just use your imagination!"

He strode confidently through the junkyard; Max was only steps ahead of him, sniffing every nook and cranny. The last fifteen minutes had been a dangerous game of cat and mouse; from their hiding place the turtles watched, petrified, as the man and his dog searched for them.

"Do you think they can find us here?" Mike whispered fearfully.

"I don't know," Don whispered back. "We're lucky this is a junkyard. With all the strong smells around here, the dog is having trouble pinpointing our scent!"

"We can't stay here forever," Leo said. "We're going to have to make a run for it!"

"No way!" Mike gulped. "If we wait long enough maybe he'll get tired and go home."

"I'll stay here all night if I have to, but I will find you!" The man yelled. Suddenly Max's head shot up and he stood perfectly still, staring directly at the turtles' hiding place. "What is it, boy?" The man asked, pumping the barrel of his shotgun. "Did you find them?"

"Get ready guys," Leo said, tensing his body. The turtles held their breath as the man walked towards them. Just as Leo was about to give the signal every light in the junkyard went out. Taken by surprise, human and animal alike froze; before anyone could make a move the silence was broken by the sound of an engine roaring to life. At the other end of the junkyard a pair of headlights lit up and headed straight for the office.

"My truck!" The man yelled. He took off running, but was too late to stop the truck from plowing into the office. Max, however, was unfazed; he began to growl and head towards the turtles. "MAX!" The man bellowed. "COME!" At the sound of his master's angry voice, the dog quickly turned around and ran to him.

"GO!" Leo cried. The turtles bolted for the gate; running on pure fear, it took less than a minute for them to squeeze through and make it to the open manhole. Once back in the safety of the sewers, they stopped to catch their breath.

"I can't believe our luck!" Leo panted.

"Luck had nothing to do with it!" A voice above them cried. From the surface Raph dropped into the sewers and landed in front of his stunned brothers.

"Raph!" Mike cried. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your shells, that's what!" Raph snapped.

"Wait…the lights…the truck…you did that?" Leo asked.

"Duh!" Raph said. "Your brilliant hiding plan wasn't working! Someone had to take charge and save you morons!"

"Hey, weren't you supposed to stay home and cover for us?!" Don asked.

"I only answer to one mutant and none of you guys are it!" Raph snapped. "Now let's go home!"

"Yay, Raph's back!" Mike exclaimed.

"Move it, knucklehead, before I tell Master Splinter you went to the junkyard!" Raph snapped.

"Yay, Raph's back," Mike sighed.

----------

"Training is over for the day," Master Splinter said.

Four turtles gasped in relief and collapsed to the floor. Splinter retreated to his room, leaving his sons to enjoy the rest of the day.

"All right, it's cartoon time!" Mike said, flopping onto the couch and grabbing the remote.

"I wanna watch 'CSI!'" Don cried. He grabbed at the remote, but Mike held it high over his head.

"Sorry guys, but we're watching wrestling." Raph said as he snatched the remote from Mike's hand. He plopped on the couch and changed the channel.

The other turtles groaned. "Raph, you've been hogging the TV all day! Give someone else a chance!" Leo snapped.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Leo, I thought maybe since I saved you guys from getting caught by humans or worse, Master Splinter, you'd show a turtle a little gratitude!"

"How long are you gonna use that to get your way?" Don asked.

"For as long as it works," Raph smirked. "Hey Mikey, could you make me a sandwich?"

"Make it yourself!" Mike snapped.

"Why so cranky?" Raph asked. "Is the big bad ninja upset because he needed saving from a human and his widdle puppy?"

"Love you too, bro," Mike muttered. He headed to the kitchen.

"I know, Mikey," Raph grinned. "I know."

THE END


End file.
